


When I'm Like This, You're the Only One that I Trust

by ver_ironica



Series: Bringing Me to You [1]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Asra (The Arcana) Route Spoilers, Asra taking care of the apprentice, Dealing With Trauma, F/M, Fan Apprentice - Freeform, Pre-Canon, Recovery, The Arcana (Visual Novel) Spoilers, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:28:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26683681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ver_ironica/pseuds/ver_ironica
Summary: Asra taking care of the apprentice, Wren, in the first few weeks after she was brought back. The world moves too fast and it hurts, but Asra is here for her, and comforts her as she learns how to be a person again.
Relationships: Apprentice/Asra (The Arcana)
Series: Bringing Me to You [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1953253
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	When I'm Like This, You're the Only One that I Trust

**Author's Note:**

> I just felt like like there was so much love and care from Asra in the first few months of taking care of the catatonic apprentice, and I needed to write it! I tried to convey how much Asra would make the apprentice still feel independent and respect their needs. 
> 
> Anyway, I broke my own heart like twenty times while writing this, please cry with me.

"Asra," Asra said gently, patiently. "I'm Asra, your friend. Now, you try." 

"You're As...As..." Wren mimicked, trying to get her mouth to wrap around the name. Some days, words came to her more easily than others. Today was a difficult day for speaking. She took in every motion he made as he sat the the foot of her bed, drinking in his posture and the effortless way his mouth moved. She felt heavy and slow in comparison, propped up with pillows. 

"Yes, you're doing so well," he said, and he smoothed back some hair from her face. She felt warm with the praise, some of her worries fading, and felt her face move naturally. Asra's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Wow, my heart, what a beautiful smile." 

A smile? She pointed at her face, and pointed back at his. "You?" she tried to articulate. 

He laughed, a musical sound. "Yes, very good. I am smiling when I see you. You make me feel happy."

 _I've known "happy" with Asra before, haven't I,_ she realized with a rush. Suddenly a pain like lightning struck her head. Wren gasped with the force of it, closing her eyes and putting her hands over her ears. It was so loud, so bright, and it hurt so, so much. 

Words left her, all vocabulary forgotten. The person in front of her made more noise, only adding to the pain. They touched her, and she screamed and moaned, and tried to beg them to make it stop, but didn't have the words. Wren didn't know there _were_ words. 

Her body was a cage, she begged for the release of a nothingness she couldn't remember, anywhere other than this prison of noise and light and pain. 

After a few moments that felt like hours, finally the world softened. The noises dimmed, and the lights darkened. She took a shaking breath. Her chest was tight, and the only air she could force back outward came out loud and wet, and water was on her face. She was sobbing, she realized. But she was awake, and normally didn't manage to stay conscious when the pain took her like that. 

The person's voice was taking shape, and Wren tentatively peeked open an eye to see them. When the pain didn't hit again, she opened both eyes and looked at them. 

His voice was quiet, and softer than velvet. She couldn't tell what he was saying, but knew he wasn't smiling anymore. His eyes were shining, and she realized his were filled with tears just like hers. 

Wren felt horrible then. So guilty, for making him--Asra, _Asra_! How could she have forgotten his name?--she'd made Asra stop smiling. 

"Sorry," she made her mouth form the apology, and it sounded warbled, distorted, like she was trying to speak underwater. 

Asra's words took shape. "No, my heart, please, don't be sorry. It's alright. I'm here. I'm here. Tell me what you need."

He softly rubbed her arms that were still clutching her head. She slowly took them off and lowered them, and tried to focus on breathing. That was Asra's first lesson she remembered. Breathe. 

"I need it...to...get better," she said. Her tongue was frustratingly slow and heavy, but Asra nodded, encouraging her to continue. "Can you...As--Asra," she paused, shaking with effort, "say...my name...again?"

He nodded, and took her hands in his hands. They were warm and smooth, his fingers strong around her clumsy ones. "Your name is Wren. You're my dearest friend, and my apprentice magician. You're healing, and it's okay, I'm here for you." 

He said the words that he's repeated for her countless times, and her eyes filled with tears again, surprising her. But she could tell they were full of relief. 

"Thank you," she mumbled. 

"Anytime, my heart." He gave her a smile then, and she mimicked him. 

A noise came from her midsection then, a strange gurgle. She felt a flash of panic, and looked up at Asra with fear. 

He breathed an easy laugh, relaxing her. "It's alright, my heart, you're hungry. You feel hungry. Your stomach is letting you know it's time to eat." 

She felt relieved, and then realized he was right. She wanted something to eat. She pointed at her throat as well, tapping two fingers against it. 

"And thirsty, too?" Asra asked. She nodded. "Thank you for letting me know. I'll go get us some lunch, alright? I'll be right back." 

Wren rubbed the soft material of the blanket around in her hand. While Asra wasn't looking, she tried to sit up on her own. Sweat beaded up along her forehead, and her abdominal muscles spasmed, but she pushed through it. With a great sense of triumph, she was able to sit upright enough to look out the window next to the bed. 

She saw colors and shapes, and the bright sun that cast a yellow haze over the neighborhood. The sky over their home was a piercing blue. She squinted, disoriented, trying to make sense of the picture her eyes were giving her. She focused, feeling sweat run down her back, but she was determined. Finally, she was able to make out the colorful awnings that drape over the market district, though she couldn't remembered what that actually meant. 

But the beauty of the colors, the wind making the fabric sway and drift, the moving shapes rushing and bustling about underneath, filled her with happiness and fondness. She wanted to go outside, to feel it all, take it all in, with no pain. 

She looked back down at her figure swathed in blankets. Asra was still in the other room, the kitchen, making up something for them to eat. She thought she heard him make a noise, but it was muffled and she wasn't sure. 

She focused for a moment on breathing, taking in a deep inhale and holding it for a few beats before letting it out, long and smooth. 

Then she grabbed at the edge of the blankets, and carefully tugged them away, sweat running down her back now. But she and Asra had been exercising her legs for this for some time now, and she needed to get better. She wanted to help Asra, and today felt like a day for progress.

Trembling and feeling as though she was about to fall to pieces at any moment, she turned her body, hanging her weak legs over the edge of the bed. Her toes grazed the floor, sending pins and needles shooting up to her spine. Breathe, she reminded herself. She pressed her feet down onto the floor, with intent. Her mind fogged over, but only for a moment, the dizzy spell leaving as soon as it had come. She felt herself smiling. 

Using her arms for support, she turned herself over, facing the bed, and propped herself up onto her legs. 

She let out a victorious laugh, and then blinked as more dizziness rushed over her. She steadied herself for a few more breaths, and then pushed her hands away from the safety of the bed. 

"Asra," she tried to call him, but had no strength in her throat for her voice to carry far enough. But that was okay. She was standing, on her own. "Asra, I'm..." she tried to say again. 

A shiver wracked her frame, and she nearly fell, her hands stretching out to catch her upper body with the bed once more. She was panting, her entire body felt like it was made of paper. 

She realized she couldn't make herself stand again. It was too much exertion, and she was faint. With a flash of fear, she found she didn't know how to get back into bed, her legs stuck in position. 

She heard Asra slide into the room, and stop suddenly. He was quiet for a moment, before praising, "Oh, my heart, look at that! You're working so hard!" 

She gave a frightened laugh. "Help," she squeaked, she couldn't turn her head to look back at Asra. 

Asra let out a startled, "Oh!" and there was the noise of dishes and glasses being hurriedly set down before he appeared beside her. With his strong hands on her for support, she was able to collapse back onto the bed, sighing with deep relief. 

"Stand," Wren tried to explain proudly. She used her hands to gesture at herself, and then a figure made up of her two forefingers standing up on the open palm of her other hand. 

"You stood on your own?" Asra asked as he gathered back up the tray of food he'd brought. He gave her a mischievous smile. "You knew I'd tell you not to go so fast, so you waited until I left, is that it?" 

She gave a satisfied smile and nodded. But she noticed a flash of something else in Asra's eyes, that she wasn't sure how to describe. A tightening of his features...worry?

He helped to fluff all of her pillows to ensure she was totally supported, and then he set the tray of food in her lap. He'd brought in water and bowls of soup that smelled warm and cozy and delicious. Her mouth watered. 

He guided her hand to the spoon, and held her hand for her, helping her lift it to her mouth. It was amazing, full of flavors she loved, even if she had forgotten their names, she knew immediately she'd had this before. Her head pulsed with a small flash of pain, but it passed as she concentrated on the taste and Asra beside her. 

She hummed and closed her eyes with contentment. He helped lift a glass of water to her lips, and she drank happily from it. She rubbed her chest in a circular motion to say her thanks to Asra. 

"Aw, thank you, my heart," Asra said warmly. "I guess that means you like it? It's squash soup. We eat it in the autumn season." 

She nodded as emphatically as her strengths would allow. "Squ-ash," she tried. A question bubbled up inside her. She bit her lip for a moment, thinking of the words she'd need to ask it. "What does...is... 'heart' mean?"

"What is a heart?" Asra repeated, and she nodded. He gave her a soft smile, his expression suddenly full of emotions that were hard for her to determine. One moment he was open and smiling, and then without her knowing what changed, the smile was still there, but tight, heavy, closing off from her. He carefully had her set down the spoon. 

Then, still holding her hand, guided it up to her chest, where he splayed her fingers out against it flat. 

"Do you feel that beating inside of you? That's your heart," he explained. 

She waited, and focused. Then she felt it, a steady rhythm of her heart in her chest. She gave a light laugh, exhilarated. She had so many questions, what did it do? Why did she have one? 

"You?" she asked questioningly, pointing at him. 

"Yes, I have one too," he said, and Wren could swear his eyes were watering, but she didn't understand. 

Slowly, she reached her other hand out to his chest, where his shirt was low, she grazed his bare skin with her hand, and placed her palm flat against him, keeping her other hand against her own heart. She felt it, finally, his heart, beating faintly in his chest. She smiled, and looked up to his eyes. 

With a start, she realized hers and his were beating at the same time. 

"Same," she said, awestruck. 

Suddenly, Asra pulled away, turning his face away from hers. He stood and moved to the other side of the room, and it looked like his hands moved up to his face. His shoulders shook silently. She took her hand away like she'd been burned. She felt the sting of rejection, and realized she must've done something wrong. Her head began to ache once more. 

"S-sorry," she mumbled, putting her hand to her head. 

"It's not you, my..." he trailed off, still facing away. His voice sounded wet. He cleared his throat. "It's not you, Wren. Don't worry. The soup made my stomach upset." 

She felt relieved that it wasn't her fault. Her headache faded. "Asra," she said sympathetically. 

Finally, he turned around, and it she was glad to see he looked happy again, even if his eyes were a little red. But he was back to being open and smiling at her, and that was all that she could ask for. "You must be getting tired, huh?" he asked her. 

She found that was getting sleepy. Her headache this morning and standing had taken a lot out of her. She yawned. 

"Here," Asra said, and moved the tray from off of her. He helped tuck back in her blankets that had been tangled earlier. He smoothed back her wild mane of hair from her face. Her eyelids drooped, getting heavy. "Comfortable?" 

She gave a tiny bob of her head, unable to keep her eyes open any longer. 

"Get some sleep, Wren," Asra whispered. He gave her hand another soft squeeze, and left the bedroom. 

Wren drifted off to unconsciousness, thinking in circles about what it meant that Asra says she's his heart, beating in his chest.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I have no experience dealing with any sort of trauma like the apprentice goes through, so this is all just how I imagine it would be to become a living person again. 
> 
> Please let me know if you liked it. 
> 
> Find me on tumblr @ver-writes


End file.
